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My adversary, London, often taunts me into leaving. She snows on me, rains, she blows. She trips me up sometimes, punches below the belt. In the past i left. Caved in, ran to sunnier climes.

But I won't go. Not anymore.

These days she strokes me calm, with her ancient knowledgeable fingers, gives me presents wrapped in lovely shades of personal happiness and calms me down.

I love those tokens. I've stored them all.

On her mean days, when she wants me to go, she challenges me in the most conniving of ways, sometimes secret, even prolific or minute and only viewed with a microscope.

She can be scarily, brutally, honest. My mirror.

In those times i come here, to where I can see her, confront her full on and it's then she smiles at me, she winks. She knows I love her and there is no other city that my heart would readily accept in her place.